


Five Times Felix Absolutely Definitely Did Not Kiss Dimitri (And One Time There’s No Denying He Did)

by codenametargeter



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Academy phase, Azure Moon Route, M/M, Post-Timeskip, Pre-Canon, T is for training yard shenanigans, all over canon really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codenametargeter/pseuds/codenametargeter
Summary: The title is a lie because Felix Hugo Fraldarius definitely kissed his best friend/prince/least favorite boar/king multiple times over the many years they've known each other even if he's going to pretend he didn't because that's absolutely a healthy way to cope with your giant tangled mess of feelings.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 6
Kudos: 155





	Five Times Felix Absolutely Definitely Did Not Kiss Dimitri (And One Time There’s No Denying He Did)

**Author's Note:**

> AKA: the one in which I finally just let Felix say 'fuck' as much as he wants

**1.**

Felix Hugo Fraldarius is 9 years old and he does not want his best friend to leave.

He should be used to it by now. He and Dimitri have been friends since they couldn’t do anything but cry in their cradles and their childhoods so far have been filled with happy reunions and tearful farewells because while they are friends, they are not the same. Felix is from a grand family in the kingdom but Dimitri is from a royal one which makes him the prince and therefore special. But they’re still friends. _Best friends_. 

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Felix says. They’re sitting on a wall away from the main pathways through the manor, legs kicking at the stone beneath them as they look out over the sea. More accurately, they are hiding.

“Me neither,” Dimitri says. “I like it better when I get to be with you and Glenn and Sylvain and Ingrid.”

Felix likes it best when it’s just the two of them but he doesn’t say that. “It’s just two months though. And then I’ll come to Fhirdiad.” 

Dimitri grins. “It’ll be summer by then. We’ll have way more fun than last time. There was too much snow the last time you were there.” 

By now, they can both hear the approaching footsteps which means their hiding spot is about to be discovered. Felix tries to change them up but there are only so many places to hide in this place. Voices join the footsteps. “Your Highness? Your Highness, it’s time to depart!”

Felix doesn’t think about it. He just leans over and presses his lips against the corner of Dimitri’s mouth in a childish approximation of a kiss. “I’ll miss you, Dima,” he says and then stubbornly balls his hands up into fists because he is _not_ going to cry this time. 

They’re out of time though as Glenn steps into the alcove, followed by a pair of soldiers dressed in Blaiddyd colors. “Your Highness, we’ve been looking for you for half an hour,” one of them says, voice just this side of scolding because you’re not _actually_ supposed to scold a prince.

Even at nine, Dimitri’s already learned to harness his natural charm and he unleashes it on the soldiers now with a smile as he swings his legs around. “I’m sorry to make you worry.”

Glenn looks between them and raises both his eyebrows. “You two know you’re not supposed to be up here.”

Felix just jumps off the wall and crosses his arm, glaring. “So?” 

“I’m sorry, Glenn. We won’t do it again,” Dimitri says, ever the diplomat of the two. And then he turns back to Felix and hugs him tightly. “Bye, Fe. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Felix whispers as he hugs him back. Neither of them wants to let go but eventually Dimitri does so Felix has to let go too so the soldiers can escort him down to the courtyard. He’s about to follow but Glenn stops him with a hand to his shoulder. “What?”

Glenn waits until the soldiers have turned a corner before he sighs and looks a lot older than his thirteen years. “Fe, I know that you and the prince are close but…” He sighs and looks towards the sky. “Seiros, why did it have to be me?”

He glares up at his big brother. “We’re supposed to be down there too. Father’s going to be mad if we aren’t.”

“Felix, I saw you kiss him.” Glenn says the words in a rush. 

“Did not!” Felix shoots back. 

Glenn rolls his eyes. “Really?”

He’s not about to back down now. “Didn’t.”

Sighing, Glenn rubs at the back of his neck before saying, “Look, just… I don’t want either of you to get hurt, okay? Dimitri’s a prince. That means there’s things he’s going to have to do one day. Without you. Things won’t always be like they are.” 

That’s stupid. Felix might only be nine but he knows that he and Dimitri are going to be best friends forever. So he tells Glenn as much. 

Which just makes Glenn sigh again but it sounds more resigned this time. “Okay, Fe. Just… nevermind. Let’s go down to the courtyard.”

But Felix doesn’t kiss Dimitri again. Not for years at least.

  
  


**2.**

Felix Hugo Fraldarius is 13 years old and everything has changed in an instant.

If one cares to split hairs about it, his life changed a day ago when a wide-eyed, exhausted messenger slid off his horse and to the ground in front of his father and offered him a letter with a shaky hand. Rodrigue had taken the scroll, silently read it, furrowed his brow, and then, for the first time Felix could remember, his shoulders slumped forward. “Someone please find my son,” Rodrigue said, not looking up from the parchment.

Felix had stepped forward from where he’d been lingering at the edge of the courtyard. “I’m here, Father.” 

And then Rodrigue had calmly told him of the Tragedy that occurred in Duscur and how both the king and queen were dead but that the prince had survived and that Glenn had died defending them like a true knight.

They haven’t spoken since. 

They arrive in Fhirdiad about twenty minutes before what’s left of the royal retinue also arrives along with the last rays of daylight. Felix doesn’t stand on ceremony (he’s never had any patience for it) and shoulders his way through the crowd until he’s right in front of the prince who looks like he hasn’t slept since the tragedy. “Dimitri,” he says, reaching to hug him only to be stopped by the arm of an overly tall boy who looks like he’s from Duscur. Felix can’t help the furious look he shoots him. “Get off me.”

“Dedue, it’s fine,” Dimitri says, not looking up. Seiros, he sounds worse than he looks. 

The newcomer waits a moment before saying, “Of course,” and releasing him.

Felix glares at him for good measure before grabbing Dimitri’s arm and softly saying, “Come on,” as he gently tugs him to move inside the palace. He knows the way to Dimitri’s rooms by heart. He’s been there often enough. Behind them, he can hear conversation as if someone means to stop them but someone else says to let them be. He’s vaguely aware of the Duscur boy following them but ignores him until they’re outside Dimitri’s rooms. Dimitri steps inside without a word and the newcomer makes to follow him. Felix blocks his path with an arm and turns to glare up at him. “I don’t know you.” 

“My name is Dedue,” he says, “and I have pledged myself to His Highness’s service to keep him safe.” 

“And my brother just died protecting him.” Felix doesn’t even realize it’s the first time he’s said the words aloud until well after he’s said them. “He’s my best friend. He doesn’t need protecting from me.”

“With respect--”

“With respect, fuck off,” Felix says before stepping inside and slamming the door behind him. 

The quiet is too much. 

He crosses the room and then finally hugs him and tries not to be upset that Dimitri’s hug back is barely there. “I’m sorry,” he says once they pull away. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Dimitri shakes his head. “I just… I don’t understand.” He blinks and then finally looks Felix in the eye for the first time. “I don’t understand why I’m alive.”

“I’m glad you are,” Felix says firmly. (He can’t think about Glenn right now. If he thinks about Glenn, then he’ll think about their father and then he’ll get mad and Dimitri doesn’t need him to be mad right now.)

It’s almost like Dimitri is reading his mind because a moment later, his eyes widen. “I… Glenn. Has anyone-”

This is exactly what he had wanted to avoid. “They told us. We know.”

Dimitri reaches out and grasps his arm tightly although thankfully not with his full strength. “Felix, I’m so sorry. I wish that-”

“Don’t.” Dimitri blinks and Felix forges ahead. “We don’t have to talk about—I’m worried about you, okay?” 

Drawing himself up, Dimitri takes a deep breath as he squares his shoulders. “I’ll be fine. There’s no need to worry about me. It’s about what’s doing what’s best for Faerg--”

“Shut up!” The words come out harsher than he intends but he doesn’t want to take them back. Instead, Felix doubles down and jabs a finger in his chest. “Don’t say things like that. Not with me.”

“Felix, I have to--” 

“Not. With. Me.” He punctuates each word with another jab. 

For a moment, Felix thinks that maybe he’s pressed too far and Dimitri will toss him out of the room (they both know he’s strong enough to do it). But then Dimitri’s shoulders slump forward in defeat and he drops his head on to Felix’s shoulder, clutching at his tunic. Felix is already starting to bring his own arms up to encircle him in a hug when Dimitri’s shoulders start shaking as he chokes out a sob. A part of him hates that there’s nothing he can do but hold his best friend as he cries. 

“I couldn’t save them,” Dimitri says through his tears, the words muffled. “I couldn’t save any of them.” 

Felix isn’t even sure what he ends up saying except that he’s aiming for something comforting which he’s really not good at. He’s not even sure it matters though because he doesn’t think Dimitri even really hears him. Somehow, they end up on the floor which is probably for the best because he can tell Dimitri is exhausted and it likely took everything out of him to maintain the facade for as long as he did. 

He’s really not sure how long they stay like that but it’s completely dark outside by the time Dimitri releases his grip on Felix’s clothes and sits up so he’s not leaning on him either. Felix sways a bit when he moves away, almost wishing he hadn’t. 

It’s quiet again. Too quiet.

Dimitri wipes away the worst of his tears with his sleeve and straightens up. “I’m sorry. I’ve ruined your shirt.”

“I don’t care about my stupid shirt,” Felix says vehemently. “Just stop apologizing, okay? For tonight anyways.”

The corner of his mouth twitches upwards, the closest he’s come to an expression yet. “I almost apologized again for apologizing.” 

Felix snorts. “Of course you did.” 

Shaking his head, Dimitri stares out the window for a few long moments before turning back and saying, “You’re the first person who hasn’t talked to me like I’m made of something fragile.” 

“Yeah… well…” Felix flushes and it’s his turn to look away. “I know you’re not.” 

Dimitri reaches out and lays a hand on top of his. “Felix. Thank you.”

He has to look back. “You’re my best friend,” he says like it explains everything because he’s pretty sure it does. There’s an awkward pause before he pulls his hand free and says, “Are you hungry? I can ask the kitchen to--”

“No, I’m fine.”

He blinks. “Since when are you not hungry?” The minute he sees Dimitri’s expression change, he winces. “Sorry.”

“You said no more apologies,” Dimitri says.

Felix rolls his eyes. “I meant you.”

He almost smiles again but then it’s gone just as quickly as it starts to appear. “I think I’d just like to get some sleep. I haven’t really… since…” His voice trails off and his gaze seems to go with it like he’s seeing something over Felix’s shoulder that isn’t there. 

“Yeah,” Felix says, rolling on to his knees to stand. “Okay sure. I’ll let you-”

Lightning fast, Dimitri grabs his wrist. “Would you stay? Please?” 

His breath catches at how earnest and pleading the look in Dimitri’s blue eyes is and he doesn’t even pause to think before he says, “Of course.” 

It’s not the first time he’s slept in Dimitri’s bed. They used to do it all the time when they were kids because they were just that adamant about not being separated. It’s been a few years though and so he tried not to feel awkward about tugging off his boots and stripping down to something comfortable enough to sleep in even as Dimitri does the same. 

By that same sort of silent accord, they don’t discuss the specifics of the sleeping arrangements. Instead, they both slip beneath the warm covers and move towards each other until Dimitri is curled up against Felix in a mirror of how they used to sleep before. (Why does everything feel so before and after?) Felix drapes an arm around him, hugging him close, and Dimitri clutches at his arm like it’s a life line. 

They don’t say anything for awhile before Dimitri finally whispers, “I just don’t know how I’m supposed to do any of this alone.”

“You’re not alone. You have me.” 

His voice gets even smaller. “I’m scared I’ll lose you too.” 

Those words make something inside of him snap and then meld back together because he hates the idea of Dimitri even thinking that much less it being true. With his free hand, Felix brushes strands of brilliant blond hair out of his face and says, “You’re not going to lose me, Dimitri.” Impulsively, he leans down and presses a kiss to his lips. It’s chaste and he doesn’t linger, pulling back almost immediately. “I’m not going anywhere. I swear it.”

“Thank you,” Dimitri says, fingers curling tighter around his arm and finally letting his eyes close as he drifts off to sleep. 

They don’t talk about it the next morning.

  
  


**3.**

Felix Hugo Fraldarius is 15 years old and this is the second time his life has been shattered into tiny pieces in two years. 

This was his first real battle. It was Dimitri’s too and, just like Felix always does, he’d insisted on going too. Because that’s what Felix does: he follows Dimitri everywhere like a blind fool who thinks they’re still children. When he thinks back on this day, Felix feels certain that this will be the turning point. There will always be the time before and the time after he saw Dimitri turn into a murderous beast. Even when he closes his eyes, he can still smell the blood and not just because he hasn’t changed out of his armor yet. 

He stalks angrily through the camp until he spots Dimitri. Between his height and his blond hair, he’s easy to spot in a crowd especially given that he is the crown prince and therefore people give him a respectful berth. 

Felix, on the other hand, could not give less of a shit. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he says harshly as he shoves his way through people until he’s standing right in front of him. 

Dimitri turns from his conversation and looks down at him. He almost looks like his normal self despite the blood on his face and armor. Almost but not quite. “Felix. Is something wrong?”

“Yeah,” Felix says, scowling. “You.” There are at least two distinct gasps from the people around them and if he turns around, he’s pretty sure there will be some shocked faces too because again, Dimitri is royalty and most people wouldn’t even consider talking to him like that. Felix isn’t most people though. But given Dimitri’s expression, he’s probably pushing it. Maybe he should have tacked on his title. _What the fuck is wrong with you, Your Royal Highness?_

Pressing his lips into a flat line, Dimitri stares at him for a moment before he glances around at the others with them and says. “If you would please excuse us?” And then he grabs Felix’s bicep and drags him away from the circle and somewhere as close to privacy as they can get in the middle of a war camp. 

Felix tries not to wince at how tightly Dimitri’s holding his arm. Usually, he’s fairly cautious about his Blaiddyd strength but just chalk this up to yet another thing that’s abnormal today. “Get off me,” he half-growls once they’re out of sight, trying to pull himself free and failing. 

Dimitri waits a few more moments before he releases him and folds his arms across his chest. “Felix, I know we have been friends for a very long time but perhaps if you could refrain from-”

“Do you know what you looked like out there?”

“What do you mean?”

Somehow, his question just angers Felix more. How can he not know? “Out there! In the battle!”

Dimitri’s expression goes oddly blank. “Enlighten me. Please.” 

He balls his hands into fists as his sides. “You enjoyed it!” 

“It was a battle, Felix.”

It’s not an agreement but it’s also not a denial and Felix really wishes it had been. “We were taught to kill quickly. Cleanly. And instead, you made them suffer.”

“We aren’t in the training yard anymore,” Dimitri says as calmly as if this is any other day. “This was a rebellion that needed to be dealt with. Do you think that any of them would have spared us had they won?”

“What does that matter?”

Dimitri takes a step towards him and decidedly into Felix’s personal space. “I fought,” he says, voice low and with an edge to it, as if he’s trying to keep something contained, “as they deserved.”

Felix doesn’t move and just tilts his head back further so he can glare. “You’re supposed to be better than them! Not some beast who can’t stop himself from killing!”

“Ah.” 

This close together, there’s no denying what Felix sees in Dimitri’s eyes just like there’s no denying what he saw on the battlefield. This person standing in front of him, face stained with blood that is not his own, is not his best friend. Perhaps this person standing in front of him is not even a person at all but a beast on its hind legs. But he has to be sure.

And so Felix does the only thing he can think of to do or rather, he does the first thing he can think of even though it’s stupid but clearly it’s been a day for stupid. He reaches up, tangles his fingers in Dimitri’s sweat soaked hair and yanks Dimitri’s bloodstained face those few inches down towards him into a kiss. It's a real one too; not like the childish ones he pretends didn’t happen. And they’ve kissed a few times since then (and awkwardly pretended those didn’t happen too) so he knows how this should feel. The point is that Felix Fraldarius knows what it’s like to kiss Dimitri Blaiddyd and it is not this. Dimitri kisses him back but it is harsh, rough in an unpleasant way and all he can taste is the copper tang of blood and it is overwhelming. It is like kissing a-

He pulls away and stares up at him with horror and disgust. He wants to see Dimitri standing there but all he can see is the creature of death from the battlefield. Curling his lips in disgust, he says, “You’re no better than a boar on its hind legs.”

For a moment, he thinks he sees a spark of the person who was his best friend but then it’s gone and he knows it to be a mask. Dimitri extends a hand towards him. “Felix, can we please--”

“Goodbye, Dimitri,” Felix says as he turns around and walks away without a backwards glance. 

They won’t speak about this kiss later. They won’t speak about anything because they won’t even see each other. And when they finally see each other again for the first time in two years, Felix isn’t sure it’s been long enough. 

  
  
  


**4.**

Felix Hugo Fraldarius is 17 years old and he’d like nothing better than to knock his prince on his ass.

They rarely train together so it’s not like he often has the opportunity to do so but he thinks about it nonetheless. The boar has them all fooled into thinking he’s a person but Felix knows better. He’ll slip one day and show them all his true face and then Felix will nod and smugly say ‘I told you so’ as they all gasp and clutch their jeweled necklaces and cravats. But so far, he’s kept up the facade so Felix can only do his best to avoid him and glare when he can’t.

It’s a shame though because the boar is a good sparring partner. He’s one of the few around here who can keep Felix on his toes. Most of the rest just bore him. More often than not, that means he’s stuck with what he’s got right now: an empty sparring yard and nothing but training dummies willing to challenge him. 

It’s boring. And Felix hates boring.

“I am surprised to find you here, Felix.”

Speak of him and apparently the boar appears. “Where else would I be?” Felix doesn’t turn around from his training. He’s not giving him that satisfaction. 

That doesn’t seem to bother him. “Perhaps studying or even resting given the hour even though I know you train more than any one.”

Finally, Felix spins to glare up at him. “You don’t get to pretend like you know me. Not anymore.” 

“There are many things I no longer know or understand about you,” Dimitri says, “but I suspect you will not decline if I ask you to spar with me.”

For a moment, Felix considers saying no just on principle but given his recent train of thoughts, he’d be foolish to turn him down so instead he says through gritted teeth, “Fine. Choose your weapon and warm yourself up. I won’t be blamed if you injure yourself for foolish reasons.” 

“Of course, Felix.” 

The mask is good. Felix will give him that. Clearly, he’s fooled everyone else at this stupid school and everyone in Faerghus for that matter but Felix knows better. 

He turns away to retrieve his waterskin from where it’s stashed by the weapon stand. By the time he’s turned back around, Dimitri’s already peeled off his outer jacket, leaving him in nothing but his uniform trousers, boots, and a thin white shirt that makes it clear his chest and shoulders have filled out even more in the last two years. Not that Felix is looking. _Obviously._ If he’s watching as Dimitri goes through his own warm up stretches and routines, it’s for tactical reasons. People give away more about their fighting styles than they think they do and it’s not Felix’s fault that he’s paying attention. He’d be a piss-poor swordsman if he didn’t. 

Finally, he makes himself look away because he’s _not_ going to get caught staring.

After a few minutes, Dimitri clears his throat and says, “I’m ready to begin if you are.”

“Fine,” Felix says, turning back to face him. Immediately, he frowns. “Why do you have a sword in your hand?”

Both of his eyebrows raise. “I was under the impression that you wished to spar.”

“Yeah. _Properly._ ”

“Felix, I’m not sure that I--”

“Use a lance or don’t bother.” 

Dimitri doesn’t respond at first and Felix understands why. Using a lance will give him an advantage because of the weapon’s length and the boar already has reach. But they both know that Felix is better with the sword and he wants a challenge. After a moment, Dimitri sighs and says, “Very well then,” and replaces the training sword on the rack. He picks up several lances, testing their heft in his hand, before settling on one he likes. Without taking his eyes off Felix, he takes several steps sideways until they’re both in the center of the training arena. 

Stillness hangs over them as they stare at each other, weapons at the ready with no sounds around them but those of birds and the first hints of the animals who only come out at night. There’s no verbal agreement when they lunge towards each other with sword and lance. They come together with a clash but without either clearly getting the upper hand from the get go. That’s fine by Felix. He’d rather this wasn’t over quickly. 

The boar is smart about how he attacks; opting for the moments when his reach will help the most. He also moves faster than one might expect although not quite as fast as Felix. It does force him to stay light on his feet though like right now when he leaps backwards to avoid a fast jab. 

“You’ve gotten even better since the last time we sparred,” Dimitri says.

Felix scoffs. “You won’t distract me with fake praise.”

“Why would you think,” Dimitri swings his lance and Felix blocks it, “I would offer fake praise?”

“Because you’re not actually trying.” Felix pushes the lance away without too much effort. “I know what a real blow from you feels like.”

The boar frowns at him as they circle each other, looking for an opening. “We’re merely sparring for practice, Felix. I hardly think using my full strength is necessary. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

_You already have._ But Felix keeps that particular thought to himself and just glares as he darts in and strikes. Dimitri just barely parries. “I told you. Fight me properly like the beast you are or don’t bother.” For a moment, he thinks Dimitri’s just going to ignore him again but then he swings and Felix can feel it in his bones. Good. _Finally._ “Better.”

There’s a new energy to their fight now as Dimitri stops holding back. The light is fading from the sky, taking the heat of the summer day with it but they’re both noticeably sweating now. He already knows he’s going to be sore tomorrow and he welcomes the pain enough that he can feel the corners of his lips curling up in a predatory smirk. This is what he’s wanted all along; for the boar to show himself. It’s just too bad there’s no one else around to see it. 

His error is miniscule and he realizes what he’s done almost as soon as he does it but Dimitri notices too and seizes the opening to use the butt of his lance to knock Felix to the ground. Swearing under his breath, Felix twists and manages to fall correctly and kicks at Dimitri’s knees, bringing him down too. Within seconds, their duel becomes grappling and honestly, he’s not really surprised when he ends up on his back with Dimitri straddling his hips, both hands on his lance with the point resting lightly at the hollow of Felix’s throat. 

“Yield,” Dimitri says, breathing heavily. 

“No,” Felix says, grasping blindly for his sword’s hilt.

Dimitri moves his lance only to flick the sword out of Felix’s reach before returning it to his throat. “Felix, be reasonable.”

That doesn’t help. Logically, Felix knows in the back of his mind that there is no shame in losing this training bout. Lances always have an advantage over swords and, as much as Felix hates him now, Dimitri has always had a gift for combat even if he’s better at swords. But logic doesn’t do anything to help with how his pride is smarting over the defeat right now even if Dimitri looks like some sort of god of war right now as he kneels over him. If Felix swallows hard enough, he can feel the steel of the lance scratch at his skin although not quite hard enough to draw blood. He’s trying very very hard to not think about the fact that his breathing has sped up since Dimitri pinned him like this and more specifically _why_ it has. No. He’s not going to. He’s not fourteen with a crush on his best friend anymore. He doesn’t even _like_ the boar prince.

“Yield,” Dimitri says again, dropping his aim ever so slightly so the tip of the lance rests against bone and shaking his head a little in an attempt to make his stupid golden hair get out of his face.

This is unfair. It’s stupidly unfair how goddess damned _good_ he looks even after a fight and Felix is trying so hard not to let his gaze drop but then he does it anyways and licks his lips because the sweat is doing absolutely indecent things to his shirt and leaving nothing to the imagination. Except now Felix’s traitorous mind is joining forces with his traitorous body and he starts to imagine what exactly that broad, muscular chest looks like without white fabric clinging to it. But Dimitri is still looking down at him, waiting for an answer so like an idiot, Felix says, “Kiss me,” which sounds nothing at all like _yield_.

Dimitri blinks. “What?”

There’s no taking it back now so Felix just glares up at him and says, “You heard me.”

“Felix, I…” 

The lance moves away from his throat first and to one side and then Dimitri starts to sit back on his haunches but he never quite gets there because Felix surges up, grabs the front of his shirt with both hands and yanks him down into a rough kiss. By some miracle, Dimitri manages to catch himself with one arm so his full weight doesn’t end up on Felix which is probably a good thing especially since he’s kissing him back and getting crushed would probably ruin that. But also, Felix likes the heavy press of Dimitri against him and how overwhelming it feels. Their kiss is about as gentle as their duel which is to say not very. Dimitri is tentative at first but that lasts for all of a few seconds and now, as he nips at Felix’s bottom lip and tugs at his hair, Felix tries to bite back a moan and _shit_ if Dimitri keeps moving like that, he’s going to figure out really fast exactly how much Felix is liking this.

Their hands are roaming now and starting to make even more of a mess of each other’s clothing. Felix is seriously considering yanking Dimitri’s pointless shirt off because it’s not like it’s hiding much at this point. But if he does that, it means they’ll have to stop kissing for a moment and that just seems like a--

“Your Highness? Are you in here?”

The sound of Dedue’s voice yanks Felix back to reality faster than anything and he jerks away from Dimitri. “Get off of me!”

Dimitri’s blue eyes widen as he scrambles to comply. In the back of his mind, Felix notes how thoroughly kissed the boar looks with his hair disheveled and shirt askew and he’s smug about being the cause. But then, as he grabs for his sword and scrambles to his feet, he realizes that he probably looks similar and _fuck_. About the only thing he has enough time to do is to turn away from the training grounds’ entrance so he can try and adjust his clothing more discreetly.

“Ah, Your Highness,” Dedue says as he approaches them. “Forgive me, I had not realized you planned to train tonight or else I would have been happy to join you.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Dedue,” Dimitri says, finger combing his hair into something more presentable. Is it just Felix’s imagination or is his voice a little strained? “I ahh hadn’t planned on training. It was a bit of a sudden decision.” 

What the hell was that supposed to mean, Felix wonders as he wipes his hand with his mouth and glances downwards to make sure his trousers aren’t presenting a problem. 

Dimitri keeps talking. “Luckily, Felix was willing to be my training partner for the evening and was, as always, a most excellent opponent.”

Dedue turns his calm gaze that never gives anything away towards Felix. It makes him want to cross his arms but he can’t with the training sword in hand so Felix just glares which is probably the most normal thing he can do right now. “It was just a sparring match, boar. Calm yourself.”

Dimitri’s cheeks flush ever so slightly pink. “Yes… well… I appreciated your time this evening. No one has quite your way with a sword.”

If Felix doesn’t leave right now, he’s going to die. “Whatever,” he mutters, accidentally slamming his training sword into its place on the training rack harder than intended. He grabs his vest and waterskin from where he’d stored them off to the side and starts to make his way towards the door as fast as he can.

“Felix!” Dimitri covers the ground between them in a few long strides. Once he’s beside him, he lowers his voice and says, “Can we please talk about what just--”

“No,” Felix says and then he keeps walking right out the door and as far away as he can possibly get from the boar. (He’s _not_ running away. He’s _not_.) 

One kiss doesn’t mean anything, he tells himself. It was a stupid mistake. Dimitri is still a boar and he still hates him. Nothing’s changed.

And he definitely doesn’t think about how it felt later when he’s in the privacy of his own quarters. For weeks. Definitely not.

  
  
  


**5.**

Felix Hugo Fraldarius is 23 years old and he’s in shock. 

He doesn’t show it, hiding behind a scowl and folded arms. He’d rather die than let anyone know how badly shaken he is by the sight of Dimitri looking like this. It’s been almost five years since the news first reached Fraldarius that Cornelia had executed the crown prince on trumped up charges but not offered proof in terms of his body. And so Felix had stubbornly refused to believe it was true because _how dare_ Dimitri just die like that. The more he thought about it, the more he refused to believe it was possible and then, for whatever reason, Sylvain and Ingrid had agreed with him. For five years, the three of them have traveled across the continent, following even the craziest of rumors in an attempt to find their king and bring him home. 

And now here he is. Or at least here’s a corpse wearing his face and speaking in something that sounds sort of like his voice. He hates it more than he hated it when the boar pretended to be a person. He’d rather he was dead. 

But he’s still standing guard in what’s left of the cathedral anyways. He doesn’t really want to dissect why. 

Mostly, it’s boring. All the boar does is stand there, glowering at nothing and talking to dead people who aren’t there. He has yet to see him speak to another living person that isn’t Byleth and Felix has been watching him for three days now. 

The sun set at least two hours ago if not more and yet Felix remains. The time won’t be late enough for him to consider retiring for at least another hour. Nothing’s changed about Dimitri’s demeanor but something makes him draw closer. They’re alone in the cathedral now, making the sound of his footsteps too loud even in his own ears. 

“Leave me be,” Dimitri says in that harsher voice that seems to be the only one he speaks in anymore. 

“Why?” 

“Aren’t I haunted enough? I know what it is that I must do.”

Felix frowns, drawing closer and stepping so he can actually see his face. Already this is the longest conversation they’ve had since his return. “Which is what?”

For the first time, Dimitri looks right at him, gaze piercing. “Avenge you and all the rest.”

His breath catches and his mouth feels drier than a desert. Finally, he manages to swallow hard. “When you look at me, who do you see?”

“Who else should I see, Glenn?” 

It hurts worse than the injury he took to his sword arm that forced him to fight with his off-hand for a month. It takes a moment before he can force his mouth to form words again and he doesn’t bother hiding his disdain. “You should get your last eye checked, boar. I’m not my brother. He’s dead.” When Dimitri doesn’t reply immediately, Felix presses on. “You should know that. You watched him die.” 

Dimitri blinks and it seems to bring some clarity back for a moment. “Felix.”

“Yeah,” Felix says, jabbing him in the chest with two gloved fingers. “Because I’m alive. Glenn isn’t.”

Painfully slowly, Dimitri looks down at his fingers and then back up at Felix again. It’s unnerving enough that he snatches them back again before Dimitri can do something absurd like bite them. Just as slowly, he raises his gaze back up. “The dead have their demands and I must give them what they want.”

“Glenn is _dead._ He doesn’t want anything from you.”

“Believe me or don’t. It is of no matter.” Dimitri looks away from him and at something past Felix. “I will rip her head off with my own hands. I swear it to all of you.” 

If anything, Felix should be relieved that now everyone can see the truth about their prince. People don’t talk about ripping heads from bodies with their bare hands. People don’t speak to the long dead and then pause like they actually respond. People don’t abandon everything they always claimed to care about in favor of vengeance. Everyone can see what a bloodthirsty beast Dimitri truly is. It’s what he’s wanted since that battle in Western Faerghus. He should be happy.

But he’s not.

And he’s been quiet for too long. “I’m real, you ass. They’re not,” Felix says with as much venom as he can muster. When Dimitri ignores him, he reaches up and fists a handful of his filthy, knotted hair and forces him to look down. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” 

And then he sees it. 

It’s the faintest of sparks but it’s there or at least he thinks it is. It’s as if it’s actually Dimitri looking at him and not the beast. Like he still has a soul. Felix hates it so much that he can’t stand to look at him so he drags the boar’s head down and kisses him.

And for a moment he forgets. Forgets the last five years of war and the pain of not knowing. Forgets the three years of seeing a beast when everyone else saw a well mannered prince. Forgets the two years after Duscur. His entire fucking world becomes this moment in time as he kisses the man who used to be his best friend and everything he ever cared about. 

But then the moment’s gone and he’s left staring up at what’s left of the boar and he’s forced to remember all that’s brought them here. 

“What was the point of that?” Dimitri asks him, tone oddly emotionless.

“Nothing,” Felix lies, stepping away. “It was nothing.” But it wasn’t nothing because now he knows that--no. He can’t even let himself think that. Instead, he turns on his heel and stalks away, speaking over his shoulder as he goes. “Stop talking to ghosts and find a bed. You’re even more useless than you are now if you’re too tired to fight.”

Dimitri doesn’t reply.

Felix is glad he doesn’t. 

But now he knows.

And the next morning, he returns to his post in the cathedral and keeps vigil over the boar. Because now he knows there’s something still in him worth guarding. 

  
  
  


**+1**

Felix Hugo Fraldarius is 23 years old and the war is finally over. 

He’s exhausted (they’re all exhausted) and he wants nothing to do but sit down but the sounds of the crowd cheering for them keep him on his feet. In theory, he’s helping Sylvain make his way off the battlefield since his friend took a lance to the knee and fell from his horse and walking isn’t going well but in practice, he knows Sylvain is helping him stay standing too. 

“There’s going to be one hell of a party when we get back to the monastery,” Sylvain says, glancing around as they pick their way through the crowd. 

Felix shakes his head, tightening his grip on Sylvain’s arm. “Only you would think about parties when your leg is bleeding.”

“There’s a bandage on it. It’s fine.” It’s only Sylvain’s somewhat labored breathing that gives him away. “Come on, even you have to be happy right now.” 

“I am happy. This is my happy face.” 

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” Sylvain says although there’s no bite to his words, only fondness. 

It just makes Felix want to glower more. “I’m the ass who’s carrying _your_ overgrown ass.”

Sylvain shrugs or at least he tries to. It doesn’t really work with one of his arms slung over Felix’s shoulders. “Only for another few minutes and then I can turn my charm on whichever one of our lovely healer friends decides to take pity on me.”

He rolls his eyes more out of habit than anything. It’s not like he’s blind enough to have not noticed that there’s something going on between Sylvain and Mercedes and he can tell it’s serious because Sylvain hasn’t said a damn word about it. Which is fine. Felix isn’t really the person to talk to about feelings and especially not romantic ones but he does think they could be good for each other. Not that anyone’s asked him. 

It’s getting noticeably louder now which Felix is taking as a good sign that they’re almost back to the encampment. As they turn one final corner, it’s immediately clear that they’re some of the last ones to make it back. In a way, it’s good because it means they can both glance around and do a quick headcount. He spots Ingrid first standing with her arms around Dorothea and then Mercedes who’s on her knees beside a patient. From there, he seeks out Annette, Ashe, and Dedue and then those who joined their house later like Petra and Leonie. Alive. They’re all alive. 

Finally, Felix finds his gaze drawn towards the center of the group and the two figures who stand there; one green haired and short and the other tall and blond. 

Sylvain reaches across with his free hand and nudges him in the stomach. “Go.”

He turns and frowns. “What?”

Gingerly, Sylvain pulls his arm free from Felix’s hold and steps away, wavering a little. “Come on, Fe. Don’t pull that act with me.”

“Sylvain, you can barely stand.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Sylvain says with a wave. Several meters away, Mercedes rises to her feet and frowns ever so slightly as she spots Sylvain and his bloody leg and starts towards them. “See? Go.” And then he pushes him.

Felix stumbles a pace before catching himself, glaring as he does. “Idiot,” he mutters, jerking his quilted coat back into place. But now there’s no excuse left and his feet slowly draw him towards the center, towards the Professor and his king. Both of them clearly have yet to clean the grime of the battle from themselves. Dimitri’s shoulders are rounded forward and he leans heavily upon Areadbhar but at the same time he looks… lighter. As if a burden has been lifted from his shoulders and he can finally breathe again. It’s the first time in a long time that he looks like his Dimitri again. 

Before he can get caught in an endless cycle of overthinking that particular thought, Felix starts to shoulder his way through the crowd although the closer he gets to Dimitri and Byleth, the more people just step out of his way. The professor spots him first and simply nods at him with that subtle little smile of theirs. Dimitri doesn’t notice him until he’s only a few feet away and then he smiles too. “Felix! I’m relieved to see yo--”

“Shut up, Dimitri,” Felix says, stalking forward to close the distance between them. Then he reaches up to wrap one arm around over his shoulders and places his other hand against Dimitri’s cheek to pull him down into a kiss, not giving a damn who’s watching even though it’s probably everyone. What he cares about is Dimitri especially as the other man wraps his arms around him, drawing him closer like he’s afraid he might escape. This kiss is nothing like the others they’ve shared and that Felix pretends didn’t happen. Because this time, there’s no testing, no consoling, no childish expressions of love. It’s just them. 

When he pulls away, Dimitri stares down at him, lips parted and surprise written clearly in his blue eye. “Felix…” he breaths, not loosening his grip on his hips. Felix tilts his chin a little higher, preparing himself for an argument or maybe rejection or whatever comes next. “You used my name.”

Okay so maybe he wasn’t ready for that. “Yeah. And?”

He’s smiling now. There’s no denying that. “I’ve missed the sound of you saying it.”

So he says it again. “Dimitri.” Anything else he’s even thinking about saying gets rendered irrelevant as Dimitri captures his lips in another kiss and it’s suddenly hard to think straight which is fine because he likes this better. If he can think straight, he’ll have to think about what happens next. He’ll have to think about how they can’t just erase the last eight years and act like there isn’t so much history hanging between them. He’ll have to think about how Sylvain is never going to let him live this down. He’ll have to think about the terrifying prospect of not knowing what they even are anymore aside from king and vassal. He’ll have to think about all of that eventually. But not right now.

Apparently, those are things on Dimitri’s mind too because when they break apart this time, he asks, “Are we going to pretend this kiss didn’t happen too?”

“No.” Felix shakes his head and truly smiles for the first time in a long time. “Not this time.”


End file.
